


smooth the wrinkles

by orphan_account



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M, relatively spoiler free, takes place between election and dc expedition, theyre zodiacs!, this is just 4k words of leopika talks abt clothes sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23775979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kurapika’s face had set in a frown the minute Leorio started speaking. That was still the same; eyebrows and lips both drawn tight. It didn’t help a bit to throw off the ‘teenager who wore his dad’s clothes for his first job interview’ look.Leorio and Kurapika share a hotel for three days, and instead of talking about their emotions, they talk about clothes.
Relationships: Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83





	smooth the wrinkles

**Author's Note:**

> this is a lot of dialogue. sorry if you really wanted to know what the hotel looked like

“Holy shit. This is nice.” Were the first words out of Leorio’s mouth as his luggage thunked to the floor. He shrugged off his coat to throw it on the couch, followed by Kurapika, the both of them juggling suitcases, keycards, and the tense silence they rode the elevator up with, but (almost) all was dropped once they entered the hotel room. The hotel suite, to be exact. Kitchen to the left, dining table and living room centered across the entrance, and two separate bedrooms to the right, complete with their own respective bathrooms. It was one of those special hotel rooms that essentially doubled as an apartment, and a nice one too, not one of those overpriced, cramped things you find all over Yorkshin. 

Leorio couldn’t tell if the noise Kurapika made in response was a dismissive grunt or a hum of acknowledgment. He was too busy taking in the scope of the room itself, with its high ceiling, and clean, stain-free walls, and chandelier handing over the center of the living area, a plastic one with a flickering bulb, but a chandelier nonetheless. And the sofa actually looked comfortable. Not like something that would flatten your ass into a brick if you stayed up all night watching tv in it. It was nice. Which is why Leorio let Cheadle pay for their stay here. 

“I still don’t get why she just got us one room,” Leorio wondered out loud.

“She?”

“Cheadle, anyway, money clearly wasn’t the problem here - wait have you spoken to Cheadle yet?”

“Only over phone calls.” Leorio crouched to untangle the drawstrings of his duffle bag from his suitcase as Kurapika spoke. “And it’s likely we only got this room together because you’re the one who gave my name, we know each other, and we’re the only new members so it’s reasonable to stick us together.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leorio waved Kurapika off from the floor, “but the whole Zodiac thing works out for you, right? Also Cheadle’s nice. Smart. You would like her.”

“Naturally.”

In triumph, Leorio yanked his briefcase out of his luggage pile on the floor instead of comprehending what part of his sentence Kurapika responded to. Kurapika stepped over the mess Leorio was making to set his own light suitcase behind the couch, then took off his own coat to fold it over the arm, where Leorio had meant to throw his own on, but it slipped off onto the floor instead. Kurapika picked it up and folded it just as neatly over his own. Both of them were back to silence, not dissimilar from the elevator, just a few more feet apart. Kurapika was unaffected, surveying the room like he was scanning for possible enemies between battles, not like he was standing in a glorified hotel room. Leorio crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. He felt a pulse of en being sent out and sighed, opting to watch Kurapika instead of prove him wrong for being suspicious of his surroundings. 

It’s been longer than he realized, Leorio thought, since they last saw each other. Actually, a really long time. Leorio wasn’t unaware that two years had passed from the last time they spoke face to face, but he hadn’t seen up close what those two years looked like on Kurapika. His hair was relatively the same length, so at least Kurapika was getting haircuts every so often, but it was messier somehow, and eyes far more tired and withdrawn than Leorio had ever seen them before. Come to think of it, when he nearly missed Kurapika at the airport, it was because he couldn’t recognize him at first. 

So, Leorio watched Kurapika, probably like someone who doesn’t understand personal privacy, but most definitely like a friend who’s been out of touch for so long. Like someone who wants to recognize their friends face the next time they meet at an airport. 

Kurapika was fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt when he met Leorio’s gaze. It fit okay. A tad oversized. It fit a little less than fine, but even if Kurapika got a well-tailored dress shirt, it would still drape foreignly over his body. 

“Are you done staring?”

Leorio cleared his throat. “I’m still not used to seeing you in those clothes.” He uncrossed his arms and made his way to the couch, falling ungracefully into the cushions. “Not sure if I’ll ever get used to it. You look so uncomfortable in a suit.”

Kurapika took his and Leorio’s coats. “They aren’t my favorite,” he said as he headed to the entrance, hanging the coats in the closet tucked to the right of the door. 

Leorio watched as he moved. Kurapika’s hair was actually a little longer in the back than the front.

“I figured as much,” Leorio replied.

The hangers rattled as Kurapika slid the closet closed. 

“You know,” Leorio swung his arm around the back of the couch and turned his body to face Kurapika better, “You’d probably look more professional if you got a shirt that fit.”

Kurapika quirked a brow. “I think it fits just fine.” He looked down at his own clothes as if that would prove anything. 

“Maybe you believe that, but to a more fashionably trained eye,” Leorio gestured to himself, graciously, “you could tell it’s oversized. Your hands would be swimming in your sleeves if it weren’t for the cuffs, and the shoulder line is all wrong. Makes your posture look more hunched over than it actually is. Makes you look kinda scruffy...and immature.”

Kurapika’s face had set in a frown the minute Leorio started speaking. That was still the same; eyebrows and lips both drawn tight. It didn’t help a bit to throw off the ‘teenager who wore his dad’s clothes for his first job interview’ look. 

“Well I’m neither of those things.:

“You can tell yourself that but the clothes disagree.”

Leorio was halfway through turning back to grab the remote off the coffee table when he heard Kurapika huff.

“What.” 

“Nothing. It’s just,” the ghost of a smile traced Kurapika’s face, “I feel like usually, before, out interactions tended to be the other way around.”

Leorio’s face melted into a smile as well. “What, like you making fun of me for doing something wrong, and me disagreeing even though I knew you right?”

“Something like that,” Kurapika trailed off before shooting an accusatory glare in Leorio’s direction. “You were making fun of me?”

Leorio snorted. “No. I was just trying to give some advice.”

“Hm. As was I, back then.”

“Yeah. Guess we’re even now.”

The hotel was silent. Nothing made a noise with the exception of the ac, and Kurapika’s pen scrawling across the page of his notebook. The desk had been claimed by Leorio not too long after they arrived, piled high was textbooks and loose papers, so Kurapika sat in the similarly styled armchair, adjacent from the couch, knees crossed on the cushion and trying to ignore the sound of Leorio stomping into the room. He stomped everywhere. Kurapika didn’t miss it. 

“What’re you writing?” Leorio had just taken a seat on the barstool with a drink. Kurapika could just see him out of the corner of his eye, slouching as he took a swig, waiting for Kurapika to answer. 

“Plans.”

“For what?”

Kurapika shot Leorio a look, which was all he needed to do to have Leorio raise his arms in surrender, and almost spill his drink in the process. But he didn’t miss the scowl, nor the grumble, as Leorio turned in his seat, accepting the end of the conversation. Kurapika was going to return his attention to the notebook in his lap, but something on Leorio’s shirt caught it instead. They had come back from their first Zodiac meeting, so Leorio’s coat was off, shirt untucked, rumpled, and unbuttoned at the top, and there was a small hole in the side, the right size and placement to have been caused by repeating, (and probably careless) tucking and untucking. 

“You have a hole in your shirt.” Kurapika pointed this out, and Leorio almost swiveled back around. 

“What? Where?” He twisted from side to side in a frantic attempt to observe his own shirt, to which Kurapika allowed himself to watch in amusement from across the room until Leorio almost fell off his seat trying to look at his own back. 

“It’s on the side,” Kurapika finally offered, “around the waist.”

Leorio grabbed the hem of his untucked shirt.

“On the left.”

Leorio turned to his right.

“Your left.”

For a medical student, he sure seemed ineffective at receiving instructions. 

“Oh.” Leorio dropped his shirt. “Well, it’s not that bad.”

“Really? You seem like the type of person to fuss over clothes. You just did.”

“As long as I can still wear it and not look like a fool I’m fine.” Leorio shrugged. Kurapika cocked his head to the side. 

“You wanna tell me I always look like a fool don’t you.”

Kurapika chose to look down at his notebook as if he were planning to write something down instead of responding.

Leorio scoffed.

Of course Kurapika was thinking Leorio looks like a fool. He always does. Too tall, and always wearing those shades that are too small for his face, and facial hair that never fails to look a little uneven, and not to mention the suit he wears to even the most casual of occasions. Foolish, but undoubtedly signature. No one else could pull off the look of a fool so well. 

“Whatever,” Leorio waved off Kurapika’s silence. He leaned his elbows back on the counter with a sigh. “I’ve run my fair share of clothes into the ground, but as long as they’re still staying on my body, I won’t buy a replacement.”

Kurapika tapped his pen against his temporarily forgotten planning notebook in thought. “I suppose I’m the same.”

“With all your blacklist hunter mafia money?” Leorio quirked a brow. “Yeah, right.”

Kurapika huffed. “I won’t buy new clothes unless necessary.” He leaned forward to set his pen and notebook on the coffee table. “The suit I wear is the only one I own.” Not too different from Leorio, he guesses. 

“Should still get a new one. It doesn’t fit right.”

“There’s no need to repeat yourself.”

“Just sayin’.”

Leorio, as Kurapika was just now learning, could talk an awful lot about clothing, or fashion, or sizing. Almost as if he were actually fashionable himself. To an extent, he was. Kurapika could admit Leorio still knew more about modern fashion than he ever could, so credit had to be given, but regardless, Kurapika still didn’t think that the right fit for a suit would end up as a recurring topic of conversation between them. He didn’t think they would have much to discuss at all. In fact, there was some loosely formed plan that he materialized before arriving, in which he distanced himself as much as he could while he and Leorio were in the same hotel and essentially coworkers. Kurapika was supposed to come across as busy as he possibly could in order to use it as an excuse that didn’t need to be said out loud, but clearly it didn’t work. It never worked that way with Leorio. Only so many minutes could pass of them being in the same room, same building, same city, and Kurapika would find himself indulging in the easiness that came with Leorio’s presence. Ease. That’s what it was. Somehow, it was all too easy. 

Leorio and Kurapika were the last to shuffle out of the conference room, clearly the odd men out, trailing behind a group full of severe animal-themed outfits and body mods. Leorio still found it a little absurd. The animal motifs you get used to after a hot minute, but it didn’t really hit him until after the first meeting as official Zodiac members that he was, well, an official Zodiac member. The boar. Pig. Replacing the very guy he punched in the face on public television. Back then he didn’t care about the mess the Hunter’s Association was in at all, and now, he’s spending his afternoons trying not to doze off during a three hour long conference meeting, while Kurapika, his friend who he hadn’t seen in nearly two years, sits across the overly lacquered long table, scribbling down notes like his life depends on it. 

“Hey,” Leorio softly bumped into Kurapika’s side as they walked down the hall together, “noticed the new clothes.”

“Yes. I decided to heed your advice. 

“It looks good. More professional.” Leorio punctuated his sentence with a hand clasping Kurapika’s shoulder, and let it slide off as they turned a corner for the elevator.

“Right.”

“Hey, is your posture worse?”

The look Kurapika gave him was between a frown and a glare. He pushed the elevator button, letting the little  _ ding  _ answer for him. 

“I swear you used to stand up so straight it was like you had a stick up your-”

“Leorio.”

“Right, not finishing the sentence.”

Leorio shuffled from foot to foot waiting for the elevator to come up, thinking he should probably come up with something else to talk about. 

“But you really did look like-”

The elevator doors cut Leorio off, followed by Kurapika brushing past him with that silent attitude he always seemed to wear. Leorio followed and kept his mouth shut for the time being. Which only ended up to be until the elevator doors slid shut. 

“You should straighten your spine a little. Poor posture can lead to a whole lifetime of back problems. All that unwanted pressure on parts of your spine that aren’t meant to handle it can really pull a number on you. Also makes you look smaller than you actually are. 

Kurapika shut his eyes in annoyance, drawing his brows in just enough so there was almost a crease. He’d gotten better at controlling his ‘fed-up’ expressions, but it was still exceedingly obvious he’d rather throw something in Leorio’s direction to shut him up. Leorio hid his smile when Kurapika crossed his arms and looked up with narrowed eyes. 

“So your posture is perfect then?”

“No.” Leorio leaned against the wall as the elevator lurched down another level. “But I’m 6’4, so I can take some liberties with my posture.”

“Sure. If you want to look like a dog who’s stalking the ground sniffling for scraps.”

“Cheadle’s the dog,” Leorio grumbled.

“Fine. My apologies. Then you look like a pig hunting for-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” Leorio pushed himself off the wall and shuffled beside Kurapika. The floor number flickered to theirs, finally. Leorio wasn’t sure why exactly the meetings had to be on the very top floor. Kurapika was about to say something when the elevator came to a stop, so Leorio placed a hand on his back, and practically pushed Kurapika out of the elevator once the doors opened.

“I’ve been standing like this forever, so it’s not like there’s much to do about it now,” Leorio trailed Kurapika, who stumbled out, “but you, on the other hand, can save yourself from chronic slumped shoulders.”

“My shoulders aren’t slumped.”

While saying that, Kurapika corrected his posture. Or he could’ve been squaring his shoulders to fight Leorio. He’d seen that stance plenty of times before, up close and personal. 

“Well the new suit helps, but yes, they are.”

Kurapika  _ hmph _ ed.

“When did you even get it? We’re in the hotel like all day.”

“I woke up early.”

Leorio didn’t bother to poke holes in the answer, so they walked in silence, side by side with their own objectively poor posture, back to the hotel room.

On the third day, their last day, Kurapika decided to pack his bags. He only had the one light suitcase that he did take with him, which was part books, part clothes, and part precautionary measures (weapons) hidden in the bottom in case something went wrong during their stay. Which nothing did, fortunately. It was just three days of meetings, which was cut short on this last day, as all information, disclosures, and discussions had all been said. It essentially wrapped up everything Kurapika and Leorio needed to know about their new respective roles as the rat and boar, as well as wrapped up what the senior members needed to know about them. 

So Kurapika now has nothing to do with himself for the next 12 hours. Which would be the perfect time to relax and take advantage of the expensive hotel suite that the Hunter Association travel expenses (Cheadle) covered for them, except doing nothing goes so against Kurapika’s nature that he started pacing the hotel trying to clean and fix every element that’s been slightly put out of place since they got there. Until Leorio started grumbling at him to do literally anything other than check the couch cushions while he’s sitting there trying to watch tv. To Leorio’s favor, Kurapika ended up finding nothing, so he was dispelled down the hall to pack his things early instead. 

Kurapika was only halfway to his room when Leorio called out.

“Hey, Kurapika.”   
Kurapika turned.

“How’ve you been?” Leorio asked.

Kurapika blinked. This was the question that he expected when they saw each other at the airport, or on the taxi ride to the hotel, or when they ate dinner together the first night there. Not on their last day, after hours worth of Zodiac lectures and conference calls.

“I’m fine.” Kurapika left his words short and clipped. Leorio would either catch on or pry.

“Just okay?”

“What do you expect me to say, Leorio?”

The chattering news anchors on the tv were shut off with that lingering static sound that Kurapika never got used to. Leorio leaned forward in his seat. “I don’t know,” he said, “how you’ve actually been? What you’ve been doing for the past two years? What you’re gonna now as a Zodiac?”

“You’re not dumb Leorio,” Kurapika turned back and opened the door to his room, “You can assume the answers yourself.”

Kurapika didn’t turn the light on. There was enough sunset filtering through the curtains, and enough light from the hall coming through the open door. He went straight to the bed, picking up the suitcase from under it, then dropping it open on top of the unmade nest of blankets. Silently, Kurapika started to pick up the wrinkled clothes from the days before and started folding, even when he heard Leorio’s footsteps come down the hall and stop by his door.

Kurapika was trying to prioritize here. Instead of talking about his experiences and emotions, the most important thing for him to do was pack, then unpack, then pack again, because taking the extra measure to make sure his clothes were properly folded to avoid further wrinkles is far more dire than having an idle conversation about the mafia with Leorio. 

“You still have those?” 

Kurapika paused at Leorio’s sudden question. 

“Of course I do.” Kurapika smoothed a careful hand over the faded blue tabard near the bottom of his suitcase. “It’s the only one I have.”

The color was greying at the edges by the gold trim, and the meticulous embroidery was fraying, stitches coming undone after so many years of overuse, but yes, he did still have it. He’d have it for as long as it would let him. 

“Geez, that thing’s pretty worn out isn’t it?” Leorio said as Kurapika picked it up. He held it out in front of him, realizing it had actually been a long time since he looked at it closely. Kurapika nodded in agreement. There were a few more holes here and there, most likely the work of moths that made their way into his closet back at the Nostrade manor. This, along with his other traditional clothing, stayed tucked away at the very back, hidden in a cardboard box. It even smelled like dust and mothballs. 

He’d have to fix it himself if he wanted to wear it anytime soon, but the chances of that were incredibly slim. Not only was it dangerous to wear his clan’s clothing out and risk being recognized by bounty hunters and collectors, but he needed to blend in with the modern world in order to be considered seriously in his strain of business. It didn’t take Kurapika very long to realize he couldn’t hold onto these clothes, wearing them on blacklist hunting jobs, wearing them while navigating the mafia, wearing them while retrieving the eyes as quietly as he could. It was too conspicuous. All Kurapika could do was pack them under button-up shirts and hope no one finds him out. 

“I could uh, sew it up a bit if you want.”

Kurapika whipped his head around. 

“What?” Leorio scowled. The almost abashed tone of his previous offer switched to a defensive one. Almost accusatory. 

Kurapika turned, letting the tabard fold over his arms as he crossed them. “You?” he asked, more than incredulously, “Sewing?”

“Well, I mean…” Leorio took a few more steps in the room, already scratching the back of his neck, “I’m no expert, but I can do my best.”

“ _ You  _ can sew clothes?”

Leorio grunted and shoved his hands in his pockets. “What, is it so unbelievable that I’m capable of needlework?” I practically had to sew my own shirts growing up. Also, doctor.”

“Really?”

“Geez, Kurapika, weren’t you the one who said he hopes I make it as a doctor one day?”

“No, I meant the sewing. Did you really sew your own clothes?”

“Oh.” Leorio sheepishly dropped his defensiveness. “Well. No. My mom did most of it…”

Kurapika let himself smile, looking at Leorio, then fondly at the fraying, damaged cloth in his own arms. “My mom did as well,” he said. He spoke softly, but he knew it was enough for Leorio to hear by the way he straightened up.

All was silent for a moment.

“She’s a great seamstress.” Leorio’s voice was soft, full of care. It always was, unfortunately enough for Kurapika’s heart. Leorio always was.

Kurapika took a deep breath. Sometimes he forgot to breathe, so he had to take another. He can’t remember the last time he talked about his family, if even did that at all. He doesn’t know if this will be the last time. So he took a breath, held it, and exhaled.

“She always tried to get me to do it myself,” Kurapika said, “but I was stubborn.”

“Some things never change then, huh.” Leorio walked around to the other side of the bed. “My mom was kinda the opposite.” He picked up one of the dress shirts laid out on the bed, the oversized one, and started folding. “Insisted on doing everything on her own, while I insisted I wanted to learn.”

“And you were also stubborn?” Kurapika kept his eyes on Leorio’s hands while speaking. He’d have to refold his clothes the way he liked later on, but for right now he let Leorio help.

“Of course I was.” 

This time, Kurapika met Leorio’s eyes, specifically the soft glimmer of understanding, a sad kind, the kind Kurapika didn’t like to see in a friend's smile, but it was warm. So in a moment of selfishness, one of the many he had taken during these three days, Kurapika let himself be understood. 

“There’s no need to fix my clothes for me,” Kurapika said, mirroring Leorio’s movements and folding the tabard as neat as it allowed, “you need to focus on studying after all.”

“Right, well, I hope you get it patched up soon.” Leorio set the shirt he finished holding in Kurapika’s suitcase, gently, as if the same shirt he said didn’t fit Kurapika right suddenly became the most important thing in the world. “You look much more comfortable in it than a suit. More like Kurapika.”

Kurapika set the folded tabard next to his shirt. A few strands of thread splayed out as he did so, but he let it down just as gently, with just as much worldly importance. As far as the two of them were concerned, this room was all the world needed to be. Just for a minute.

“I agree.”

They folded the rest of his clothes silently, and quickly, and the next morning Kurapika left early. He decided not to refold a thing. 

**Author's Note:**

> kurapika: *goes into zetsu at 6 in the morning to buy a new shirt without leorio knowing* *whips out his hunter license to show every department store in the area until they let him in bc nothings open at 6am*
> 
> anyway. i just think they know how to sew, but not really. hope you liked the gay shirt folding. love and light


End file.
